


catch my drift

by briimiis



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: M/M, i wrote a good portion of this at like 6 in the morning on like 12 espresso shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briimiis/pseuds/briimiis
Summary: Brian’s ripped enough bandaids off in his lifetime to know how it goes by now.





	catch my drift

**Author's Note:**

> whew ok this is my first time posting any of my writing anywhere but i just so desperately crave first date patbri i must create content  
> i did my best also thank you elena for proofreading this when it was like barely finished  
> if there are any mistakes you catch feel free to point them out to me and i will be sure to fix them and also smash my head on the sidewalk

_keep it quick, say it brief_

_if it’s fast, it will be a relief_

_short on time, that’s a gift_

_count your seconds, and they’ll catch the drift_

\----------------------------------------------

Brian’s ripped enough bandaids off in his lifetime to know how it goes by now.

Literally more times than figuratively, probably, but that’s neither here nor there.

It’ll be _fine_. He can bounce back from anything, he can sure bounce back from this. He’s cool, he’s casual, he’s confident. He can just say words. He’s good at that.

Which is why it’s weird that he can’t seem to tear off _this_ particular bandaid.

It’s not like he’s never asked someone out before, but it’s _different_ when it comes to Patrick. Everything is, isn’t it?

And it’s certainly not due to any nervousness with Patrick. Being with Patrick is _easy_ , a weight off the shoulders, one of the reasons he’s even in this predicament in the first place. Patrick is the feeling of coming home after work and slamming his face into a pillow. Comfortable, familiar, a sense of safety.

Maybe it was a fear of _after_ asking, of Patrick saying no and then losing that familiarity.

Whatever the reason, he just hasn’t been able to do it. “Do you wanna go on a date” always turns into something like “Do you wanna get destroyed in Mario Kart 8 at my apartment,” or “Do you wanna help me with this Unraveled script,” or “Do you think Waluigi is hotter than Wario,” which, although still fun, is never what he was aiming for.

He’s got it this time, though, this time. He can feel it, he knows it this time, when he and Patrick are packing up after a stream.

Not a real meet-cute scenario, here, but it’s fitting for them, he thinks.

He’s sitting on the couch, laptop in his arms, staring at his hands.

_Rip it off like a bandaid. It’ll be easy when you’re saying it. You’ll be glad you did it._

He sighs to himself, and stands. He hears Patrick’s shuffling closer, and doesn’t want any questions about why he’s looking very intensely at his fingers.

He holds the door for Pat with a cheeky “ _my lady_ ” and gets a “ _thank you, kind sir_ ” from him in response, then walks out of the room with him, snickering.

_Just say it, goddamnit. Spit it out. People do it all the time. You’ll live if you’re rejected._

“Hey, Pat,” he starts once they’re out of the building and outside, in the evening air, which is a bit more romantic of a setting than the studio room.

“Hey, Brian,” Patrick says back, looking at him, and oh fuck.

Brian takes a subtle deep breath.

_Like a bandaid_ . _Rip it off._

He stops walking abruptly, and Patrick stops too, looking at him in confusion.

“Do you wanna go out with me tonight? Uh, on a date?” He forces out before his mind can keep up with his words.

Patrick’s look of confusion changes to a mix of surprise and a blank look, just staring at Brian with wide eyes in a way that makes him kind of nervous. “On a date?” He echoes, sounding uncertain. Brian can’t tell if that’s because he’s just surprised or weirded out.

“Yeah, a date,” Brian says, smile pasted on his face like it was glued there, “If you feel like it. I was just wondering.”

Silence. Patrick blinks. This is awkward.

“Well!” Brian says loudly, waving his hand dismissively and turning to walk away, “Nevermind! I’ll just go home and like, watch Thor: Ragnarok again, forget about it-”

“Wait!” Patrick blurts out, “Wait, uh. I was just- caught off guard? Sorry, I’d.. yeah, let’s go out. On a date.”

Brian turns back around to look at him. “Oh! Cool, cool. I have to get home really quick, put my shit up, but I’ll text you? Later?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll, uh-” Patrick trails off for a second, “-see you later. Tonight. Bye.”

“Yeah!” Is all Brian says back, and as soon as Patrick’s out of earshot he gets in his car and just _screams,_ not caring if someone calls 911 and reports a murder.

He’s probably looking like an idiot, smiling the entire drive to his house.

\----------

“Laura, Jonah! I’m going on a fucking _date_!” is met with as much screeching as Brian thought it would bring. He can’t deny he contributes to at least 50% of the screaming, especially when Jonah manages to pick him up by the waist and swing him around.

\----------

There isn’t much to do for an impromptu date planned at six at night, so they just grab something to eat at some bar. Despite the familiar setting- which does give it a more casual air, and Brian’s thankful for that- it _was_ kind of awkward at first. It reminded Brian like being on a highschool date again, all of the painful “ums” and kinda weird small talks before ordering. He’s trying to not think of it as a “date,” because the word date tends to make him think it has to be different than a normal hangout. It doesn’t, though. It can just be like. An ultra bro hangout.

At one point, though, Pat slammed his hands down on the table and suddenly started spouting this bullshit theory about Princess Daisy being Waluigi’s illegitimate and long lost daughter. Brian did have to put a stop to that, because it was ridiculous, but he can’t deny it was really good at clearing the date tension.

And also really thought out, for some reason. He didn’t know Pat had that much free time.

It’s good, though, it’s really good, especially in the simple things. Like sitting next to Patrick instead of across. Hearing his laugh a little closer to his ear than normal. Not having to reach as far to steal fries off of his plate. Tentatively pressing their legs together, getting a grin in response. It’s nice. Brian’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

They leave soon, because the restaurant staff probably really doesn’t want them sitting there and laugh obnoxiously for 5 hours. Brian doesn’t mention going home, however, and neither does Pat, which Brian is kind of glad about. They’re walking along the sidewalk, now, close enough to each other that their shoulders are bumping and Brian can feel Pat’s warmth. It’s a nice, quiet night, and they walk in comfortable silence.

Fuck silence, though. Brian shoves Patrick into a bush as soon as they pass by one and immediately books it.

Patrick’s yell of “You MOTHERFUCKER” almost makes Brian double over in laughter, but then he _really_ starts running, because he knows Pat is a terrible, evil monster, hellbent on revenge.

He doesn’t know how long they spent chasing and shoving each other into various puddles and leaf piles, but he does know that now he’s uncomfortably damp, breathing heavily, and picking leaves out of his hair on a park bench. He also knows that he doesn’t really mind it, because Pat’s in the same boat sitting next to him.

“I think I hate you, actually,” Brian informs Patrick very seriously when he drops a gross soggy leaf from his own hair directly into the back of Brian’s shirt.

“You started it.”

Brian can’t really argue with that, so he says “fair” and clears himself of the remaining leaves.

When he’s managed to get the last leaf out of his shirt, he spares a glance at Patrick, and he’s surprised to see that he’s already looking at him.

“So I’m about to ask a weird question,” Patrick says once he notices Brian’s caught his gaze.

“When are any of your questions normal?”

“Ha, ha.”

“Really, though, go ahead,” Brian assures him seriously, “I won’t point and laugh at you, I’m not a High School Musical antagonist or something.”

“Debatable,” Patrick says, snorting when Brian shoves him lightly, “But I was just wondering- not complaining- why did you ask me out so suddenly?”

“Ah, well,” Brian starts, rubbing the back of his neck. He should have expected this question at some point, but he didn’t. “I’m not even going to lie, I’ve been trying to for… Well. A bit. I had to rip off the bandaid at some point, and it just kinda.. happened then.”

“Wait, rewind,” Patrick says, putting his hands up, “A bit? How long have you been waiting to ask?”

“Well, we don’t need to get into the exact numbers on that,” Brian laughs that off, a little bit embarrassed.

“Wow.” Patrick says, incredulously, “Wow, you had a crush on me?”

Brian shoves Patrick again. “I would hope so. We’re on a _date_ , Patrick.”

“Yeah, but you had a _crush_ on me,” Patrick laughs, bumping Brian’s shoulder in return, “Damn. That’s just wild. How uh, did you know I wasn’t straight?”

Brian shrugged. “I didn’t.”

“You just jumped to ask me out without even asking if I was straight or not? Whole ass in?”

“I don’t understand why you need to describe it as ‘whole ass in’ or what that even means, but yes. Whole ass in.”

“Whole ass in..” Patrick echoes in awe, ignoring Brian telling him to stop saying that, “Well. It was nice that you did. No homo.”

“Right, no homo, Pat.” He snorts back, gaining a grin and another small lapse of nice silence.

Brian takes another look at Patrick now, the way his hair frames his face, his still lingering smile, his closed eyes, and Brian suddenly thinks _oh_.

It’s like the universe decided to depart some knowledge upon him, and that knowledge is just that he really doesn’t want this to be the last time he sees Pat like this. Also knowledge that he feels very gay right now, but mostly that he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing.

“Pat?” He asks softly, waiting until Patrick opens his eyes and turns his head in his direction, “My turn to ask a weird question?”

“Shoot,” Pat says simply.

“How, uh. Serious is this to you?” Brian starts, and he can already tell he’s thrown Pat for a loop, “Sorry, it’s just, I don’t want to be the only one who’s really in it, you know?”

Patrick blinks at him for a second, then smiles again, which already takes a whole weight off of Brian’s shoulders. “I’m in it as far as you‘ll let me be. I’d.. really like to uh, y’know. Go out with you again. The whole nine yards.”

Brian almost melts with relief. “Whole ass in?”

Patrick laughs loudly now, tilting his head and looking at Brian in a way that makes him want to melt with something else. “Whole ass in, Brian.”

“Well, good,” Brian says, smiling so wide he can feel it crinkle below his eyes, “One more weird question.”

“One more weird question,” Patrick repeats in agreement.

“I’m gonna toss out hard-hitting questions right here. Got my tiny ass notebook with a ballpoint pen. Call me Rita Skeeter after this one. Gonna really grill you here, Pat Gill- Oh my god. Shit.”

“What? What?” Patrick says, confused about Brian’s sudden break off.

“P...Pat Grill..” Brian whispers, and has to stop himself from going into a laughing fit right there at his own joke. He can tell Patrick is trying really hard to keep a deadpan face. It doesn’t work, obviously, because it was fucking hilarious.

“Okay, okay,” Brian says seriously now, “You ready?”

“Yeah, hit me. Don’t think I can’t handle your extreme journalism.”

Brian inches closer. “How do you feel about the term boyfriends?”

“Like, the word in general? Could be better. Like if it was spelled with the red emoji B or-”

“Pat!”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Pat laughs, holding his hands up defensively, “Feels good, Brian. Feels wholesome. Let’s really lean into it. I swear I’ll hold your hand underneath the bleachers and everything.”

Brian rolls his eyes, but he can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face.

Grinning, looking at Patrick, Brian’s hit with how _easy_ it is, how natural this goes, how he builds off of Pat and then Pat builds off of him.

Brian absorbs this information in a frozen stupor for a second, then scoots closer to Pat again, more noticeably.

“Well, _boyfriend…_ ” Brian draws out, leaning in. “You know what they say.”

Patrick raises his eyebrows. “I don’t, actually. What do they say?”

“When you kiss a flower,” Brian gestures to himself, dramatically batting his eyelashes, “tulips are better than one.”

“Terrible joke.” Patrick says teasingly, even though he laughed anyway.

Brian shrugs, smiling. “You catchin’ my drift, though?”

“Yeah,” Patrick says back, and he leans in now, so close their foreheads could touch, “I think I am.”

Brian’s grin somehow manages to widens even more, triumphant. _That’s right, motherfucker_ , he thinks to no one in particular, _I ripped the shit out of that bandaid, look where I am now_. “Give me your best shot, then.”

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Patrick says, and before Brian even has the chance to laugh there’s a warm mouth on his and everything else melts away to the rhythm of their lips.

**Author's Note:**

> and thats that on that.  
> the pat grill line actually just fucking slammed itself into my brain while i was writing that section and i just felt like my brain became GALAXY i really needed to put it in  
> hit me up @ briimiis on tumblr!!!!!


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